Monday, May 23, 2005
Even in my dream I am half aware, I cling to fragments of images, repeating words mantra like to fix the scene in my memory: car, motorway, house-hunt, lost, panic, driving, junction, confusion, TA next to me. Wakefulness rushes in and with a sense of triumph I cling to the words – a dream, a dream I can write down. But other thoughts intrude as the day grinds into being around me. What should I wear today, where did I put my shoes? Have I got time to walk to work this morning? Is there any way I can take the day off? Do I really have to go? Dragging my feet, I arrive at the office – a meeting, a coffee, I clear my e-mail, respond to requests for help...I find a moment to write down my dream for Tim’s blog, what an exciting honour. I thought perhaps I’d have to resort to publishing a dream I had years ago and wrote in my journal – a sinking ferry, an albino gypsy, dancing in a village hall and a trapdoor in the ceiling opening to drop a badger at my feet, a vicious badger that bit clean through my foot, just behind the toes. But now I have a fresh dream to write about and it was a good one, now what was it? My mind painfully excavates the words – car, motorway, house-hunt, lost, panic, driving, junction, confusion, TA next to me – they are flat, emotionless, grey and devoid of meaning. And that’s just it, isn’t it, that’s what happens when you wake the person sleeping next to you and say I had the most arrestingly vivid dream, listen, and in a rush the words tumble out. But the iridescence, the shimmer of hyper-reality is too delicate to be conveyed by these wakeful words.
It kind of goes without saying, but this is my blog. I own it. Slightly daft MP3 disclaimer: All MP3's are posted here for a limited time only. Music is not posted here with the intention to profit or violate copyright. In the unlikely event that you are the creator or copyright owner of a song published on this site and you want it to be removed, let me know.